


Good night, Zelda

by postmanlink



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 13:23:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11186004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/postmanlink/pseuds/postmanlink
Summary: Growing up in the castle, Link was plagued by constant nightmares, but Zelda would always be there for him. Now they are eighteen, she's training to be Queen and he guards her room at night -- it's about time he pays her back.





	Good night, Zelda

**Author's Note:**

> Original title: Restless.

Link’s first night guarding the Princess’s room was surprisingly rough.

While the position was honorable, he allowed himself to feel a bit of pride – he was the _Hero of Time_ , even if almost no one would believe him. He had endured much worse, and figured there would be no problem with merely standing in front of a room until dawn.

Oh, how wrong he was.

He found himself drifting off at every opportunity his body found to mock him and his lack of sleep. He wondered if the Princess had expected such a pathetic flaw when she chose him to guard her, and how disappointed she would be if—

A _click_ came from inside, the noise making Link jump slightly. He straightened his back and raised his chin, looking forward with a stare he hoped looked focused enough. The door opened, and from behind it came the Princess of Hyrule herself.

“Link?” she called quietly, and he turned his head to the side.

Barefoot in a nightgown and stripped off of her jewelry and regalia, she didn’t look like the Princess of Hyrule. That was _Zelda_ by his side – his friend, who would offer him so much support and understanding even when it felt undeserved. That was Zelda, who believed in his stories from places no one had ever seen, even if they were so absurd to the point of making him question his own sanity. That was Zelda, who saw Link for Link, and not just the boy who had halted disaster on its tracks.

So Link stripped himself off his composure, and saw Zelda for Zelda.

“Yes?” he asked softly, turning his body to her. “Did something happen?”

“I can’t sleep,” she said, her tired and tense eyes telling the story better than her few words. “I… keep having nightmares.”

Nightmares were a common topic for them. When they were younger, Link would frequently be in her position, especially after Termina. Every time nightmares ruined his night, Zelda would notice on the following day without fail. She would sit him down and ask him what affected him so much. At first, he would refuse to tell her, preferring to keep it to himself in hopes of forgetting. But with time – and the realization that bottling his afflictions would lead nowhere good – he grew comfortable enough to tell her.

His biggest fear was being judged or misunderstood – but she did neither once he bared himself to her, and for that he was immensely grateful. As the years passed, his troubles subsided, with no doubt due to her support, and he simply felt no need to tell her about them anymore. He thought they would never talk about nightmares ever again.

But now _she_ was there, anxious and frustrated, telling Link she couldn’t sleep. He would be caught dead before refusing to help her.

He asked her the question she would often give him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Zelda shook her head, looking away. “No, I… could you please come in?”

Link froze for a second, something he hoped she hadn’t noticed. “Princess…” he said, hoping she would get the message by mentioning her title.  Instead, she looked up with tired, pleading eyes, and he felt compelled to stand his ground. “I don’t want to be caught off-duty tomorrow… especially not in your room with you.”

“You don’t need to stay for long.” Zelda then took one of his gloved hands in hers, and grazed her thumb over the leather. “Just until I fall asleep. Then you can leave.”

With no small amount of hesitation, Link nodded. “Alright,” he said quietly. A small smile appeared on Zelda’s lips, and she let go of his hand to open the door again. His eyes quickly scanned the area, looking for anyone who might have been watching them and their informality – thankfully, they were as alone as they could, so he followed her into the room.

Link was a child last time he’d been there, and the gap in time showed – while the decoration had never been too child-like to begin with, nowhere to be seen were toys or all the plushies she would lend him to sleep better. Her small bed had been replaced by a much bigger one, and her desk was now littered with books and papers with fancy handwriting he could never hope to decipher.

Fitting for an eighteen-year-old training to become Queen, he thought.

Link quietly closed the door behind her, locking it with a click. Zelda sat back on the bed, taking a pillow that sat by her feet and placing it on the other side of the bed. He bit his lip.

“Where do you want me to stay?” he asked, knowing her answer but hoping she would change her mind. “By the door, on the balcony…”

Zelda looked at him for a moment before speaking. “Wherever you want to be.”

Link nodded, then made his way to the balcony. After opening the door, he turned back to Zelda with a small smile. “Good night.”

She gave a dry, silent chuckle. “If I manage to sleep, that is.”

“I’m sure you will.”

Without saying anything else, Zelda slid down on her bed and Link passed through the open door.

The balcony hadn’t changed one bit, and the thought brought a smile to his face. He sat on one of the chairs around the small round table – it was so much smaller now that he had grown tall.

He had spent countless afternoons sitting in that balcony, where Zelda would often teach him subjects such as Math and Hylian, to help him catch up with other children their age. She was so patient with him – even when he struggled, she would always calmly tell him that he shouldn’t give up, that they could try again later. And when she inevitably invited him to study again on the following day, he never refused, because how _could_ he?

But things weren’t so simple now. It wasn’t uncommon for them now to not see each other for _days_ at a time. And when they did, they would barely even have time to talk, often summing it all up in a wave or a few words, if they were lucky.

There was a flipside to that, however. Not seeing Zelda meant that he didn’t have to suppress his feelings for her as often as he did before their respective trainings got more intense – which was almost a relief.

But now he was there with her, in her very own room behind a locked door. And not only did he have to hide so much in her presence – lest the Princess herself find out about his hopeless feelings – but he would also have to deal with at least _some_ sort of punishment in case he was caught. What could he even say—

“Link.”

He jumped on his seat, quickly turning his head to the room. To his surprise, Zelda leaned against the open door of the balcony, her eyes fatigued and defeated.

“Yes?” he asked, getting up from the chair and turning to face her. “Did— did something happen?”

“I still can’t sleep.” She looked down before looking up at him again. “Could you… lie in my bed with me?”

Link hoped the moonlight wasn’t bright enough to show the sudden red he felt on his face.

“Please,” she pressed, seemingly knowing his immediate answer. “I have so much to do, I’m just— I’m so anxious about it, and it’s only getting worse…”

He shouldn’t – by all of the Three Goddesses, he _shouldn’t_. He would leave, as much as it pained him. He would be selfish, just this once. He would—

“Alright.”

Zelda’s grateful smile came back to her face, and he couldn’t help but mirror it. “Thank you,” she said before moving out of the way for Link to pass through the door.

Farore, what was he _doing_?

Zelda went back to her spot on the bed, and Link hesitantly sat on the opposite edge to remove his new boots and equipment. After putting them on the floor, he laid on the bed, facing the ceiling with hands on his stomach. He turned his head to Zelda, and their eyes met.

The thought of seeing that every night was painfully desirable.

“I’ll have to fight sleep myself,” he said, forcing out a chuckle that he hoped would ease his tension. “I’m not used to this schedule yet.”

“I know,” she said with a nod, watching him pull the covers to his waist. “You don’t have to guard my room every night.”

He turned his gaze back to the ceiling, unsure of what to say.

“But even with all the anxiety I’ve felt tonight, I…” Zelda trailed off, as she often did when looking for the right words. “I always felt safe, knowing you were there.”

Link couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

Zelda dragged herself closer to him, enough to touch his side. “I feel even safer now,” she murmured with an audible smile, her face touching his shoulder. “Good night, Link.”

“Good night, Princess.”

“ _Zelda_ ,” she corrected with a muffled voice, as she did many times in their childhood to fight his reluctance to call her by her name. “This is not guard duty, this is you, as a friend—“

“Alright,” he cut off with a chuckle. “I got it.”

Silence inevitably followed, and Link could feel himself easing up as the minutes passed. Despite the inevitable tension it brought, having Zelda sleep soundly by his side was more comfortable and soothing than it was tense.

At some point, her breathing got steady and deep. Link turned his head to her once again – she had fallen asleep. And as much as he wanted to stay there until she awoke, he had to leave.

He couldn’t let himself get any more used to something he could never have.

Trying his best to avoid disturbing her, he carefully got up from the bed, then put on his shoes and strapped his equipment to his body as quietly as possible before making his way to the door.

Zelda moved on the bed, but she was deep in her slumber.

Link slowly unlocked and opened the door, its noises being barely audible such was the amount of caution he put into it. Before leaving, however, he took one last look at the sleeping princess -- having to leave her seemed like a worse punishment than whatever he would face if he stayed.

 _Good night, Zelda_.


End file.
